“It was surprising what old experiences remembered could do to a presumably educated, civilized man.” And Hugh Denismore, a young doctor driving his mother’s Cadillac from Los Angeles to Phoenix, is eminently educated and civilized. He is privileged, would seem to have the world at his feet, even. Then why does the sight of a few redneck teenagers disconcert him? Why is he reluctant to pick up a disheveled girl hitchhiking along the desert highway? And why is he the first person the police suspect when she is found dead in Arizona a few days later? Dorothy B. Hughes ranks with Raymond Chandler and Patricia Highsmith as a master of mid-century noir. In books like In a Lonely Place and Ride the Pink Horse she exposed a seething discontent underneath the veneer of twentieth-century prosperity. With The Expendable Man, first published in 1963, Hughes upends the conventions of the wrong-man narrative to deliver a story that engages readers even as it implicates them in the greatest of all American crimes.

The Gentleman's Directory is a reproduction of New York City's rare 1870 guidebook to more than 150 brothels then operating--presenting "insight into the character and doings of people whose deeds are carefully screened from public view." This vest pocket-sized guide to Manhattan's "nightlife" was easily obtained at city newsstands. While claiming to direct the visitor away from houses of ill repute--"Not that we imagine the reader will ever desire to visit these houses"--the book offered first, second, and third class reviews and ratings. High praise went to houses "kept in a quiet and orderly manner" and that were "finely furnished." A rave review for Miss Emma Benedict's house read: "Everything is here arranged in the first style, while the bewitching smiles of the fairy-like creatures who devote themselves to the services of Cupid are unrivalled by any of the fine ladies who walk Broadway in silks and satins new." Readers were warned to stay away from the streetwalkers, while of houses on Greene Street it was said, "This thoroughfare has become a complete sink of iniquity." Third-rate establishments received such dismissive reviews as "undeserving of further notice" or "it contains nothing of any account." Applewood After Dark's faithful facsimile was reproduced from an original in the collection of the New-York Historical Society.

The first definitive study of the life and career of New York's Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan draws on dozens of interviews with friends, aides, colleagues, and enemies, as well as Moynihan's own papers, to provide a balanced portrait of a complex, brilliant politician known for charting his own course among the perils and pitfalls of American politics.

A Genealogy of the Gentleman argues that eighteenth-century women writers made key interventions in modern ideals of masculinity and authorship through their narrative constructions of the gentleman. It challenges two latent critical assumptions: first, that the gentleman’s masculinity is normative, private, and therefore oppositional to concepts of performance; and second, that women writers, from their disadvantaged position within a patriarchal society, had no real means of influencing dominant structures of masculinity. By placing writers such as Mary Davys, Eliza Haywood, Charlotte Lennox, Elizabeth Inchbald, and Mary Robinson in dialogue with canonical representatives of the gentleman author—Joseph Addison and Richard Steele, David Hume, Samuel Johnson, and Samuel Richardson—Mary Beth Harris shows how these women carved out a space for their literary authority not by overtly opposing their male critics and society’s patriarchal structure, but by rewriting the persona of the gentleman as a figure whose very desirability and appeal were dependent on women’s influence. Ultimately, this project considers the import of these women writers’ legacy, both progressive and conservative, on hegemonic standards of masculinity that persist to this day.